The Hanyou of Notre Dame
by DiamondFyre1
Summary: [AU] On a whim, the recluse bellringer Inuyasha rescues an alluring gypsy girl from a demon general, only to find out that the general had been acting on the orders of someone else... Inuyasha's master, Naraku. IK


A/N: Hey guys! There's a new author on the scene... kind of. I'm DiamondFyre1, formerly Soul of Kagome (anyone remember her? ... Probably not xP), and this is my first real attempt at writing anything in a long time, so any encouragement/concrit is very much appreciated! I'm planning to continue with this story whether I get 500 reviews or 5, but all the same, some feedback would be nice. Many thanks in advance!

This story was inspired by my favorite Disney movies (which, sadly, is very underrated), The Hunchback of Notre Dame. If you're as much of a fan as I am, hopefully you like this story and think it does the movie justice! ) If not, then read it anyway! This story will end up being vastly different then The Hunchback... you may surprise yourself by liking it :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Inuyasha cast or anything involving The Hunchback of Notre Dame ... I'm just borrowing for a little while :P

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One by one, the lights of Paris flicker out as the city settles into a peaceful nighttime slumber, unaware of the presence of a third party in the shadows above. His slight movements go undetected as he roams the gothic towers of the famous Notre Dame cathedral, pinpricks of amber piercing through the darkness and into the streets below. He is their ever-vigilant guardian, peering through stormy, unwelcoming windows to confirm that all is as it should be before heading back to the bell tower to complete his final task for the day. Coarse hands from long days of hard pulling grope around in the darkness for the familiar touch of the rope – twelve yanks, and he is done.

The sound resonates below, the bells of Paris toll late into the night.

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Miroku strolled leisurely through the marketplace, his arms gripped tightly around his purchases as he scanned the area for a place to enjoy his lunch in relative peace, and perhaps do a bit of people watching if time permitted. _ Well_, he supposed_, I guess it would be a bit untrue to call it people-watching, as I'm significantly less then interested in the male half of the population, but…. then again, in all my years as a humble priest, I've never come across any document that refers to people-watching as any kind of sin… people watching it is, then._

To his delight, he spotted a small clearing up ahead that would be perfect for eating, _and not to mention_, he mused, _all of the beautiful women that seem intent on passing by this very spot. _He looked around for the cause of this phenomenon, and found it in the form of a cart featuring an extremely popular brand of women's lingerie. Grinning, he reached the clearing and lowered himself onto the ground, pulling out the contents of his sack lunch one by one, which consisted of an apple, some stale-looking bread that even the hungriest of animals probably wouldn't touch, and a small carton of apple juice. Well, nobody ever said that being a man of God paid well….

Leaning back onto his elbows, he paused to take in his surroundings. There was the women's lingerie cart, of course, as well as another cart that looked like it was selling seafood. He probably had his back to a few more, but he wasn't bothered enough to turn around and see what they were selling. People, mostly women, busied themselves about the marketplace, hurrying from one stall to the next as if the entire marketplace would suddenly disappear if more then a minute and a half was spent buying a particular thing, and while Miroku did not envy them, he sympathized with their plights. Most of these women were regulars at the church where he served as head priest, and he knew how stressful some of their lives were – family and children, a demanding work schedule, and the many tedious household tasks (like shopping) that almost always fell on the shoulders of the woman of a household – yes, Miroku was sincerely glad to have been born male in this society. _Although_, he mused, _being born a woman would make getting away with staring at them a lot easier…_

Smiling ruefully, he shook his head free of all impure thoughts as a familiar looking group of children appeared before him, most of which he recognized from long afternoons spent at Sunday school. Behind them, the bells of Notre Dame had already begun to toll, and he had to speak slightly louder then usual to be heard over their harmonious clanging. "Hello, boys. What brings you to the marketplace on such a fine Sunday afternoon?"

The boy closest to him spoke first through a mop of unruly black hair. "Our moms told us to go play while they shopped. I think they thought we'd just be underfoot or something," he huffed, clearly offended by the allegation. Miroku thought the boy was probably right, but decided not to tell him so.

"Well tell your mothers thanks from me, then, because otherwise I would not have had the pleasure of your company," he must've said the right thing, because the boy broke into a wide smile at his words. "Will I be seeing you boys at Sunday school tomorrow?"

"Yes, Father," they chorused, and the bells finally ceased ringing as the group lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Father," a small voice came from the back of the group, and Miroku had to strain to hear his next question. "What makes the bells ring every hour?" he was barely able to get his question out before he was elbowed in the ribs by somebody close by.

"Don't bother the Father with such silly questions, Hiko," his voice held an authoritative quality over the small boy. "Besides, you could've just asked me. I know plenty about the monster of Notre Dame".

The boy who'd spoken first jumped into the conversation eagerly. "Is it true that he's over seven stories tall?" the boys began to lose their earlier formality around the priest as they took turns interrupting each other, each impatient to share everything _they'd_ ever heard about the beast.

"I heard that his eyes are blood red…."

"He has teeth as strong as diamonds!"

"Yeah, and if his teeth don't get you, his claws will".

"– and if you listen late at night, you can sometimes hear him howling!"

"I already told you, Shiro, those were coyotes…"

"The only one who can keep him under control is that Naraku guy…"

"Yeah, and if anyone else comes near him, he'll…rip out their heart and eat it right in front of them!"

"I'd die of fright before he got close enough to do that to me…"

"Yeah, but that's just because you're a wimp, Shiro"

"…Shut up".

The boy called Hiko, who had gotten himself swept up in the excitement of the others, looked about ready to explode as he burst into the conversation. Eyes wide with wonder, he shrieked…

"DOES HE HAVE TWO HEADS?"

The boys rolled their eyes at each other over the top of Hiko's sandy blonde hair, and the boy who'd claimed to know everything there was to know about the monster (and then contributed nothing to the following conversation), stepped forward and cuffed him on the back of the head. "Idiot".

"Two heads…. now that's just _ridiculous_, Hiko," the poor boy looked close to tears in what Miroku observed as a stunning example of group dynamics, and he made the swift decision to intervene before things began to get ugly.

"If you're quite finished, boys," collectively, they gave their attention back to Miroku, "I would advise you to place little stock in such rumors. The boy in question is no more of a monster then you or me. It is only circumstances that set him apart from the rest of us".

"Father Miroku," Hiko spoke up timidly, "with all due respect, have you met him?"

Miroku smiled gently down him as he answered the question. "No I have not, Hiko, and until I have, I will pass no further judgment upon him. My grandfather saw him though, when he was just a baby, and I'm sure he would've told me if he had seen any sort of threat. You're quite safe from this so-called "monster" of Notre Dame".

"Your grandpa knew him when he was a baby? How big was he back then?" another boy asked, not out of rudeness, but genuine interest. Miroku was not so grown-up that he did not recall being at their impressionable ages, so he decided to change gears and appease their curiosity. _And perhaps if I earn their pity, I can help put a stop to some of these asinine rumors…_

"No bigger or smaller then any normal human child," Miroku answered patiently. "Now boys, I will say that I am more privileged then most regarding the information I have about the boy, being that my grandfather is one of the few who witnessed his exile into Notre Dame," he smirked inwardly as he became aware that the boys were hanging onto his every word. "I will tell you everything I know, if you make me a promise beforehand that you will stop referring to him amongst yourselves, or in front of me, as "the monster" or "the beast" of Notre Dame. Agreed?"

One by one, the boys agreed to comply with Miroku's request, a few more grudgingly then the rest. When the last boy had been prodded into agreement, there was an almost unnatural silence as the boys waited anxiously for Miroku to begin his tale. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Centuries ago, these lands and many others were ruled by a dog demon of extraordinary strength and power that went by the name Inutaisho. When his first mate, a dog demoness like himself, died when he was still reasonably young, he met a young, human girl just out of her teens, named Izayoi. Though human/demon unions were reviled during the time period, as they are today, nobody dared openly oppose Inutaisho's decision to mate her because, despite being a great and kind ruler, Inutaisho was feared by all who had never come in contact with him.

Many of his own retainers, however, began to despise him for what they considered to be a betrayal of their kind, and as such they turned a blind eye when an attack was made on him while he was critically wounded from battle. Even a demon as strong as Inutaisho could not survive such an attack in his condition, and with his dying breath, he urged Izayoi to take their son and flee from the city, because he knew that without his protection, she was doomed to die. She did so immediately, and made it all the way to the steps just outside of Notre Dame, a rather impressive feat on foot, I'll say, before she was gunned down by a man on horseback. He attempted to destroy the child as well, but," Miroku paused with a wry grin, "then my grandfather happened upon the scene, and he was… none too pleased. Onigumo, the man who shot Izayoi, had a bit of religious zeal to him, apparently, and once my grandfather hit him with the full implications of what he had done, he panicked. He begged forgiveness….."

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"Please, father! Is there nothing I can do to repent for my sins!" a broken man cried desperately, hardly noticing the storm that was raging around him. "Take pity on me, please!" he fell against the violet robes of a much older man, half-sobbing into his knees. The man looked upon him gravely, then, after a moment, brushed him off to pick up the abandoned child from the pavement beside them, who kicked and screamed in his arms. A torrent of rain fell from the bleak sky, and humorless eyes were turned upon the sobbing, defeated man.

"Get up, Onigumo," he spoke harshly, willing himself not to look at the corpse that lay only a few feet away as the man called Onigumo struggled to rise to his feet, only to have a baby thrust into his arms by the older priest. "Take this child, and raise him as if he were your own. That is the only way that you even stand a chance at earning His forgiveness," Mushin's voice held no pity.

"Surely you can't be serious, Mushin," Onigumo stammered as the baby squirmed uncomfortably in his grasp, "I don't know a thing about children… would he not be better in someone else's care?"

Rain swirled and danced around them as Mushin spoke his final words, not unkindly. "I think you will find that you are more capable then you realize," he paused, remembering something. "But you must tread carefully, Onigumo. I have heard of your quest to attain demonic power, and I feel that it is my duty to warn you that if you succeed, your only chance at redemption will be lost forever".

Slowly, Onigumo nodded his understanding. "I will care for the boy, but I have no place for him. Please, let him stay with you here in the church, perhaps in the bell tower, and I will come to him every spare chance that I get".

Mushin had not been expecting such a request, and he narrowed his eyes hard, assessing the man standing humbly before him, and he surprised himself by agreeing. "I think something like that could be arranged," his eyes softened as they turned on the boy, who had calmed down significantly and was now laying limp in Onigumo's arms. "What are you going to call him?"

"I'm not very creative with names…," Onigumo admitted, calmed down enough now to feel slight contempt for the boy in his arms. "How about Inuyasha?"

Mushin gave him a deadpan stare, rain dripping off every inch of him. "Inuyasha….."

"Yes…..Inuyasha will be suitable".

The boy's only response was to turn over in Onigumo's grasp.

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"And so, you see, Inuyasha is not any kind of monster. He's the child of a human and a demon – a hanyou. Onigumo has kept him completely isolated for all of his life because he fears that he will not be accepted in society. And perhaps he is right; this is not a world in which differences are celebrated. But all the same, I do wonder about him sometimes. Life for him must be awfully lonely with nobody to talk to but Naraku," Miroku wrinkled his nose in what he thought was a subtle gesture of his obvious distaste for the man, but of course, children are always more perceptive then you want them to be.

"Naraku?" Hiko appeared puzzled. "Didn't you say the man's name was Onigumo?"

_Oh yes, I was afraid of this…_ "Onigumo….," Miroku racked his brain for a plausible-sounding lie that would not frighten the children. "Onigumo…he died," he finished lamely. "Naraku is a close relative of Onigumo's, and he agreed to watch over Inuyasha in his stead".

To his enormous relief, the children seemed satisfied by this, and during the following lull in the conversation, Miroku decided that it might be wise to make his exit before the boys found any more chinks in his story. "I'm afraid I must be getting back to the church, boys," he smiled apologetically. They said their farewells to him, a few still frantically trying to process all of the information they'd just been given, and as Miroku gathered his meager purchases and began his slow walk towards the church, he couldn't help but overhear bits and pieces of the conversation going on behind him.

"That Miroku is such a decent man… sometimes I wish I could be even a quarter as spiritual as he is".

"Do you fancy him or something, Hiko?"

"No! Don't be a jerk. And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, either… look at the man! He's probably never had a single impure thought in his life!"

"For once in your life, you may be right about something, Hiko".

"Let's all try to be more like Miroku!"

"YEAH!"

Miroku was dearly glad to be facing away from the boys, or there's no fathomable way he could've succeeded in hiding his smirk.

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Kouga let out a hefty sigh of impatience as he paced back and forth across the balcony, glaring his annoyance at any of the guards or soldiers that happened to be passing by. As a result of this, he noticed with some satisfaction that people were beginning to avoid the place and take alternate, usually longer routes to wherever they needed to go. _Serves them right…_Kouga scowled. This Naraku character was certainly not making a good first impression on him. Hadn't anyone informed him of the cardinal rule concerning Kouga? He was _never_ to be kept waiting.

Kouga _hated_ waiting.

He peered over the edge of the balcony, hoping to find something to distract himself from his growing frustration. A flash of red startled him, and he followed it with his eyes until he was able to identify it as a girl, probably in her teens, dressed head to toe in flowing red robes. He recognized her instantly; he'd bumped into her on his way to meet with Naraku, and she'd been dancing then. He'd watched her spin and twirl with graceful ease, then execute a series of complicated dance movies that made Kouga's muscles sore to even think about. He'd been her only audience, staying until the end of that particular routine and giving her a hearty round of applause once she'd fallen out of her ending position. She'd thanked him and started in on another number, which Kouga couldn't stay for without jeopardizing his being on time for meeting Naraku. He'd left her a small donation and continued on his way, and now he sorely wished he had stayed to watch the rest of her performance. Still, even seeing her leaning against a wall, running her fingers through her silky black hair, improved Kouga's mood somewhat. He watched her for awhile, confident that she could not see him from his high altitude, until he felt a hand place itself gently upon his shoulder.

"General Kouga, I presume?"

"Yes," he bowed, as was customary in the presence of one such as Naraku. "It is good to finally meet you".

"Likewise," Naraku sounded almost bored as he came to stand next to Kouga, resting his elbows on the balcony's edge. "I hope my summoning you here did not inconvenience you a great deal," he said, not particularly caring if it had. "Did my messenger inform you of your business here?"

"He said only that you requested my services on an urgent matter, that I was to report to you immediately, and that the fate of all Paris depended on my being here," Kouga was clearly bewildered by such a claim, especially since Paris did not appear to be in any particular danger. "I hope you're planning to elaborate on this?"

"Of course," Naraku said smoothly. "I'm sure you're already aware of this, but the city has fallen victim to a growing… pest problem over the years," he glanced over at Kouga to gauge his reaction, and found that he appeared to be even more confused then before.

"Pests? You mean like termites?"

Naraku snorted. "You mean you haven't noticed? And no, these…_creatures_, for lack of a better word, are far more annoying then even the most persistent of termites. Look around you, Kouga, they're everywhere. I've been willing to tolerate it up to a point, but the longer we wait to take action, the worse the problem gets," he gave a shudder of disgust as he too spotted the strange girl in the bright red clothing. "Look below you," he pointed to her. "There's one there".

"With all due respect, Naraku, I see nothing that looks like any sort of a threat to…"

"The girl, Kouga," Naraku's face was twisted into a scowl of intense hatred. "Look at the girl. The _gypsy_ girl".

Kouga's bright blue eyes snapped wide as the meaning of Naraku's words dawned upon him, and he turned to face the man just in time to catch the corners of his mouth turn upwards in an almost frightening smirk. Behind the two men, the wind was beginning to pick up, and the sky was turning to a dark shade of purple, the early stages of a storm that would rage into the night. The bells of Notre Dame were in full swing as Naraku turned to regard Kouga coolly, fully aware of the affects his words were having on the horrified general.

"So," Kouga fought for control over his voice, "You're telling me that you pulled me out of battle and had me journey all the way back to Paris so that I may help you…. fight gypsies?" Surely Naraku's intentions could not be so ludicrous…you didn't get to be in his position without at least a little common sense, after all.

Naraku's face glowed with excitement, which created an almost eerie contrast with the darkening sky. "My primary concern right now is not the gypsies, although that is my eventual plan," he paused and glanced sideways at Kouga. "Surely you noticed something….else strange about her?"

Kouga's eyes screwed with concentration as he tried to recall all he remembered from their brief encounter, while Naraku heaved a sigh of impatience and prepared to answer his own question.

"She's a miko," he said bluntly, and he was glad to see the look of recognition that crossed Kouga's face at the term.

"Oh… I thought you meant besides that," if Naraku had picked up on Kouga's sarcasm, he chose to ignore it.

"That is the real reason I brought you here. Her and the rest of her kind need to be eradicated before they end up purifying us all," he spoke with such conviction that Kouga began to wonder if he was perhaps in the presence of a madman. Everyone knew that mikos were not dangerous, had not been dangerous for centuries, ever since the demon population had been integrated into human society. It was much the same with demon exterminators, who now only carried on the tradition for show, often performing the ancient arts at Paris's many festivals against faux demons.

"I spoke with her briefly on the way to the castle, and she did not seem at all interested in purifying me then, sir," he spoke without thinking, then immediately wanted to retract his words for fear of Naraku's reaction to his coming in contact with a miko. To his surprise, Naraku did not react at all, only sneered at what he saw to be ignorance on Kouga's part.

"Perhaps she has a cold and is not feeling up to it or something. You cannot expect me to understand the inner workings of _mikos_," he practically spat the word. "Do not take my words lightly, Kouga, this girl and the rest of her kind are far more of a threat to us, and Paris, then any invaders could ever be".

Somehow Kouga doubted that, although he was beginning to suspect something similar about Naraku. _Who on Earth put this maniac into power?_ he wondered idly as Naraku's determined eyes bore into his own, and he resolved to try his hardest not to blink. "Do you accept your responsibilities, Kouga, and promise to aid me to the very best of your ability until I release you from my service?"

"And if I refuse?"

An icy chill sprung up around them, and Naraku's cold eyes probed his thoughts. "Yes…I thought we might hit that little snag". He lunged forward and gripped Kouga around the throat, fingernails digging into the soft flesh, and while Kouga's every instinct screamed to thrash out and kill the bastard, he kept entirely still as Naraku whispered softly into his ear. "The penalty for insubordination… is death".

Suddenly, Kouga felt air rush into his lungs, and he staggered backwards, panting hard as he stared at Naraku, stunned by the display of violence. Naraku regained his cool demeanor instantly, and he brushed past Kouga and back into the castle, turning at the last second to utter his final words.

"You will kill them all, at my command," he inclined his head down toward the miko, who had paused her dancing for another break. "Starting with that one".

Come on... review, you know you want to :)


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